


Just a Nameless, Stupid Girl.

by deltachye



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Abuse, Blood, Captivity, Dark, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Reader-Insert, Romance, Torture, Violence, descriptive blanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [reader x nikolai arlovskaya (male!belarus)]
Nikolai Arlovskaya is in love with his older sister. He simply cannot think of anything else besides her luscious, platinum hair... the cold, icy eyes that she cast upon everybody beneath her, nor the lovely scent of lilacs that wafted lazily from her body. He has eyes for nobody else—and that's been final for most of his life. However, in prances a stupid, care free girl who treats the world like her pet. And the funniest thing is... he likes her.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

You wiped a glass with a hot towel with a blank gaze, your muscles able to take over since you had done it so many times. The bar was eerily quiet, only two elderly regulars quietly playing a small game of chess in the corner. The clack of pieces and the occasional "Oho!" was all that could be heard throughout the entire room. You set down the now pristine glass and sighed, now even further deprived of anything to do. You kicked the chair from under the counter behind you and sat heavily, resting your head in your palms. Sometimes working as a barista was fun—the party would come and go like a herd of animals. One day it would be this irritably boring, and the next you would have a full room of drunk men shooting off fireworks from their behind while Harlem Shaking.

 

But unfortunately, you usually got the boring shifts.

 

A tinkle of the bell snapped you from nodding off, and you sat up, alert. A silver haired man with lustrous violet eyes swept into the room, his posture hunched like he was anticipating something.

 

"Hello?" you called in the native language, Belorussian. He waved you off rudely with a loud _‘shh!’_ without even looking at you, in which you frowned at. You didn't even know this guy, and you were the server! It was your _job_ to welcome guests into the bar. You shook your head and let go of it almost instantly, knowing that people having bad days usually almost always welcomed their arms to alcohol to relieve it. You knew those feelings. You couldn't blame them.

 

After a while of standing there silently and glaring intently out the glass doors, he marched up to you and slammed his hands down on the counter so hard you feared it would snap in half. You jumped backwards and almost fell off of your chair, but grabbed onto the edge just in time. The man continued to stare at you with a hard gaze, those violet eyes never breaking. As you looked closer, you noticed his irises started to shift to a pale blue. How odd... you couldn't help but be caught in a trance for a couple of seconds. The constant shift of colour was mesmerizing.

 

Your eyes slid down to the plain, white jacket with decorative fur tufts at the hems. He looked cute in it. Especially with that strange tuft of bed head he had in the middle of his silvery-straw mix. You wondered if he even noticed it.

 

"What the hell are you looking at?" he sneered, eyeing you with suspicion and letting go of the table. You noticed he didn't have gloves and his fingers were red, but before you had a chance to offer him anything he just shoved them back into his pockets. "Anyways, I need an answer. Lie to me, and you die."

 

 _Who the hell gave death threats anymore except the mafia?_ You shuddered, hiding your flinch from him. The man took an edge to you, and you right away did not doubt his threat that he would kill you. He seemed like the man to easily be able to take your life and walk away. But of course, you couldn't ever judge. You learned stories as a barista, interesting ones. But you had to work for them. It wasn't ever easy prying them from the people who kept it locked up inside of them, even as they ached to let it out. You were there to listen. This man was most likely just like the others.

 

"I... Um, okay? Wh-what's the question?" you asked, very nervous.

 

"Was there a woman here?" he snapped in that harsh tone. You flinched like he had physically hit you.

 

"We get lots of women in here... you'll have to describe her. Um, S-Sir."

 

"Argh... stupid girl!" he muttered to himself, starting to pace along the length of the counter. You felt hurt at these words, but you took a deep breath and reminded yourself not to take it to heart. You could feel a secret inside of him somewhere, and you were dead curious to figure it out. That was just a part of you. Sometimes your empathy got you into trouble.

 

"She has long, waist length hair, yes? With a blue bow tie on top. She wears a long, blue dress with..." you listened as he rambled on, describing the woman he searched for. He used wide, exaggerating hand movements that only made him appeal more to you. As he talked on, you admired how well he was able to recall this one woman. You wondered who she was to him. When he finished speaking, you also learned this woman was named Natalia Arlovskaya, apparently. She sounded familiar, and for some reason this man reminded you just of that ghost memory... Wait!

 

"She wasn't here today... But I remember seeing her yesterday!" you said, snapping your fingers as a dim trace of her was brought back to you. You remembered her talking to you in almost the exact same style: harsh, snappy and contemptibly. You brought up a faint memory of her and compared her to the anonymous man stood in front of you. They were almost like they were related... in fact, maybe that's why he was looking for her. Perhaps she was a lost sister.

 

"She was here?" the man asked, new excitement in his tone. "Do you remember where she went? What did she say?"

 

"She said she was looking... for a man named... er, Ivan?" you said, your eyes closed with strain to remember her quick words. Natalia spoke so quickly you had to take a second to sort out what she had said in your own mind. Suddenly the man slammed down on the table again, and you decided to stand rather than accidentally fall in front of him in shock.

 

"Dammit!" he growled, his teeth were bore in a canine way. "She's following that bastard again!"

 

"Um—" you started, wanting to ask what was happening.

 

"Shut up! Shut up! You should have never told her where he was! You stupid, imbecile girl!"

 

You shrank back away from him. Literally. You hunched yourself away from him, truly afraid. His snarling tone and hysterical cries scared you. He was like a madman, and you remembered his threat to kill you. You anxiously wondered if you should run and call the police.

 

Then he stopped yelling, breathing heavily after many loud curses to God. He stared you down, without softening his gaze like they would in romantic fantasies, and instead bore through you with a look of only hatred.

 

"I am Nikolai. Don't bother telling me _your_ name—because I don't care. Now, if you ever come across Natalia again, tell her I'm finding her. If you come across Ivan, call me and I'll kill him.”

 

With that and a quietly fluttering sheet of paper with numbers on it, Nikolai left.


	2. Chapter 2

You waved goodbye to Nikolai as he left, not waving back to you. You put your hand down and smiled lightly, your face warm. 

 

After that day, he came often. Sometimes even as extensive as 5 times a day. Every visit was the same:

 

"Have you seen Natalia yet?" 

 

"No, I said I'd call you..."

 

"Stupid girl."

 

At first, he still didn't care for your presence. He continued to call you by "stupid girl", and you wondered if he even thought once about what your real name was. You doubted it. All he wanted to think about was Natalia, his older sister. The thought made you cringe. Incest wasn't exactly in your book, but you learned to live with whatever a person had. You were open that way. Even if people were kind of (or really) creepy.

 

But after a while, his visits became more frequent. He started to stay longer, and not just ask you if you had saw Natalia. Sometimes he would sit and order a glass of water, or usually just a shot of vodka. He started to talk to you, unraveling his life. He loved his sister, but in turn she loved their older brother Ivan. Apparently he was a tall, Russian male with a big nose and innocent look. You didn't find him too bad at first thought, but Nikolai had drilled into you that "HE IS A BAD MAN. AVOID HIM. TELL ME WHERE HE IS SO I CAN KILL HIM. OKAY?" You usually ignored him but pretended to follow along. 

 

He was a regular now, coming in almost every day and staying from minutes to hours. He never liked it when it was busy though. You never saw him on party days, only quiet days like this one. He seemed to be warming up to you, and you in turn stopped being afraid of him. You braved your fear of him and stopped trying to run into the ladies' whenever he appeared. He had no shame and didn't care at all, stalking you into the women's washroom anyways. Oh, that was a day to remember. 

 

You sighed through your nose as you turned away. He was a curious man, and you found interest in him. It wasn't always that you did. Maybe you would try pursuing him—if he'd put away his sharp daggers and realize that Natalia wasn't going to fall for him. You reached back and started to tie your hair in a ponytail, for no reason except for that you felt like it. You started to hum to yourself, a song from the radio you had heard yesterday at home. It was another boring, eventless day. Yet you were now glad for them, since it guaranteed that Nikolai would come. You liked talking to him, even if he would insult you every sentence. You gave him your name whether he remembered it or not, and wondered if he would start using it anytime. It started getting annoying being called only "Stupid Girl".

 

Then you thought again about Natalia and Ivan. You had only seen the Belarusian woman once, and that was to inquire about Ivan, the Russian. You had never seen him here before, and wondered why Natalia was trying to look for him here. _Probably because she's sweeping the entire city,_ you thought dryly. You shrugged to yourself, pulling out the stool from under the counter and sitting on it. You looked around—but there was nothing to look at. Nikolai was the only person to visit the bar the entire day. You exhaled and rest your head on your arms, closing your eyes. A couple minutes couldn't hurt.

\---

Nikolai watched you from his post on a rooftop. He ignored the cold—he was far from used to it by now. He loved the cold. It kept him sharp and was better than sluggish heat.

 

His brow furrowed as he then saw you nod off to sleep on the bar counter. “Idiot girl,” he spat onto the roof, the spittle quickly freezing on the concrete with the cold Belarusian air. A girl as fragile and stupid as you couldn't just fall asleep in a the dangerous part of the city any time you wanted. Especially with Ivan lurking around. Just his name made his teeth grind together. His _brother._

 

Ivan looked like a nice guy, having a boo-hoo childhood and all that. But Nikolai knew his true intents. He wanted the world for pushing against him. He wanted it all, and would stop at nothing to obtain that. He was only scared of one thing—beautiful Natalia. The thought made Nikolai feel somewhat better. He liked that about Natalia. Her attitude was cute, and it was admirable to see everybody around her flinch with her edge. But even with her beauty, she tried to convince him that she was in "love" with that bastard. Pah. She didn't know what she was doing. _He_ didn’t deserve her.

 

His thoughts drifted as he once again scanned the streets for Natalia’s quicksilver hair. He thought about _you_ again. The stupid little girl who, for some reason, had stopped being afraid of him. You had once even touched his arm, making him flinch and run as if burned. Nobody had ever touched him that gently before.  
Remembering something, he thought of when you had told him your name some days ago. Worried that he would forget it, he wrote it down. He absentmindedly took a slip of paper out of his pockets, which was crinkled from being stuffed in there for so long. 

 

He looked down at the paper and read your name in his scrawled handwriting. Surely it wasn't as nice as Natalia. Your name didn’t have any sort of ring to it, being plain and boring. But then again, he didn’t necessarily like extravagant things.

 

He stared at it before crumpling it up and tossing it to the wind as hard as he could. He didn't know why he felt so frustrated by just thinking about you. Choosing not to think about it anymore, he turned off his thoughts and instead watched the ball of paper with pale eyes as it fell to earth and rolled away, out of sight. 

 

He remembered your name though, and he had a sinking feeling he would never be able to forget it.


	3. Chapter 3

Nikolai threw on a jacket carelessly without looking, before marching out of his small apartment. He slammed the automatic locking door behind him and went on, his hair unmade as always. He wore his trademark scowl, and glanced at the clock on his wrist. It wasn't needed though, as obvious sunshine shone through the fogged up glass of the tall windows. He had slept in more than he meant and woke up 2 hours later than usual. What did that mean? 

 

He was late on seeing you. 

 

It was a normal weekday; meaning people were at work and doing things. Nobody liked to get drunk in the mornings, because they were still drunk on drowsiness. But now it was the afternoon, and sometimes work was cut for midday parties. Just the thought brought a deeper grimace to Nikolai's face. Parties brought crowds to alcohol, and alcohol never mixed in well with lots of people around. He hated drunks. They were even more annoying then they were sober. Actually, everybody was annoying. He was surrounded by idiots. 

 

He burst out onto the Belorussian street, sun flickering in his eyes. He turned and walked briskly down a path his feet had memorized already. He then paused abruptly, and remembered that he wasn't going to see _you_ —the stupid girl—but he was just going to check for Natalia. Yes. That was the only reason. 

 

At that thought, your name rolled into his head. He growled deep in his throat in an animal like way with frustration—a strange habit that you didn’t see every day. He didn't want to think about your name. He didn't care. He loved only Natalia. He didn't love [Na—

 

No!

 

So lost in thought, he almost streaked right past the bar you could always be found in. After only a couple days of healthy stalking, he found out you lived in the apartment right behind it. That must be why you spent your entire petty life serving mediocre drinks. You lived on a high floor, and sometimes you would strip down your clothes with the curtains undrawn. Stupid girl. Did you want everybody to look at your pink-and-lavender-polka-dotted bra?

 

He backtracked and peered inside. Thankfully it was still empty. He was about to push the door open before he realized—it was _too_ empty.

 

Where the hell were _you_?

 

He scanned the room for as far as he could see, seeing no trace of your messy [Hair Colour] locks that reflected light gracefully. Not as well as Natalia's, though. She was a million times more graceful than you, the bumbling idiot.

 

He forced himself to stop thinking and put his weight on his toes. His heartbeat sounded like footsteps in his ears, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like a pain in his chest.

 

He entered the bar, looking around the small nook that couldn't be seen outside of the door. You weren't there either. A small, unsettling feeling arose in his stomach as he spun around on the spot. There was absolutely nothing, only a whisper of wind.

 

Then a thought struck him like a hammer. What if _Ivan_ had found you?! Surely, he would snap your fragile body in two if he realized you were the idiot to help Nikolai find him. Nikolai gripped the handle on his spiked dagger, feeling the cool metal against his thigh. He kept his hand on it, squeezing the plastic like someone would do with foam balls under stress. 

 

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to logically read through the facts. You started work at 6. It was now... He checked his analog watch. It was 9:15. Ivan could be on the flight to the next continent by now. He saw you, tossed carelessly over the bastard's shoulder, with your soft hair stained with scarlet. Your blood. 

 

His eyes were darting around wildly, before he saw himself in the mirror. Desperate.

 

He grit his teeth, before releasing the dagger slowly. His hands still felt the imprint from gripping it too tightly. He was not desperate. He did not care about you. You were an idiot who deserved to be kidnapped and tortured. You were nothing.

 

"Nikolai?" a voice asked. He whirled around, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn't noticed any footsteps. His reactions were slow. Rusty. What if he was going to be killed now? He flicked his hand down towards his waist and picked up the handle with nimble fingers, drawing it out of its paper thin holster. He almost flung that dagger that was warmed with his skin at you before he realized that it _was_ you. You stood there, gaping like an idiot as you saw the sharp blade pointed at your throat. 

 

"What are you doing?" you squeaked, your voice high. Nikolai let out a breath he had forgotten he was keeping. He lowered the shining blade and pressed his hand to his burning forehead. Surely he wasn't catching a fever. 

 

"Where were you?" he asked numbly, not caring anymore. 

 

"Um, the bathroom...?" you said in an uncertain tone, taking a step towards him. Harshly, he cried for you to get back. He stared at your large, [Eye Colour] eyes with hate. How dare you make him like this. How dare you make him so _pathetic_. It was your fault.

 

It was you.

 

You froze, and retreated a step. You brought your hands together in front of you and fumbled. He could sense your pulse racing. He could tell you wanted to turn and run. He could tell you wanted to close your eyes and scream. He could tell the stupid girl was afraid of him. 

 

He used to be reassured by that fact. He liked people to be afraid of him. If you were afraid of him, then you wouldn't go off to Ivan. You wouldn't double cross him and would remain loyal. You would be obedient.

 

But now, he felt different. Not reassured, or even slightly pleasured by the fact he was above another. He felt... bad. Something pulled at his stomach as he watched you look away from him, your eyes flitting around so nervously. 

 

He ignored the feeling and turned away. He didn't even bother to ask you about Natalia as he fled from the scene. He ran agilely down the sidewalk, pushing the confused citizens out of his way. He needed an objective now. Lists made him feel better. And there was only one step he needed to follow.

 

1\. He needed to get away from you. He needed to find Natalia. He needed to find Ivan to get rid of him. He needed to get out of Belarus to be rid of you.

 

To be rid of [Name].


	4. Chapter 4

You watched as the man turned his back on you and sharply walked away, and then disappearing in a flash. You didn’t even see which direction he walked in.

 

You sighed, disappointed at the quick meeting today. Talking about quick, he almost shoved that knife up your nose! You didn't even know he had something like that down his shirt... He must carry it around everywhere, you assumed. The chilling thought brought a shiver to your spine. He was even more paranoid than you could have ever predicted. A wry smile made its way onto your face. That was Nikolai. Always unpredictable. 

 

You made your way back to the counter, your fingers tracing the polished brass. You still felt twitchy as hot adrenaline made footstep noises in your ear. Every time he visited, your heart would flutter, your cheeks would grow warm for no apparent reason and your stomach would sink to your toes until he left. He made you so… _nervous_ all the time. _Is this love?_ you wondered. 

 

You scoffed right after you thought that, physically waving your hand in front of you to dismiss it. You weren't a schoolgirl anymore. Just a young, naive adult. Or as Nikolai repeatedly put it, 'a stupid girl'. 

 

You swayed your hips to an imaginary tempo in your head, feeling deflated. There was nothing to look forward to anymore, since that thing had just flung himself out the shop. A small pout on your face, you started to sing aloud. You weren't the greatest singer, but you enjoyed it when you were alone.

 

You sang an American song about love, the rare ones that flick onto Belorussian channels from time to time. You didn't know some of the English words, so you just hummed for most of the stanzas. You turned your back on the doors and moved your arms gracefully, bringing motion into your song. You wanted to stop and giggle, like an airheaded toddler, but you continued anyways. You hummed quieter, closing your eyes and shifting from foot to foot. You didn’t know what you were singing anymore, but it was a soft melody. It was probably a lullaby tucked deep in the back of your thoughts, locked away with touches of comfort and memories of warmth.

 

"You have a pretty voice, da?" a Russian speaker said from straight behind you. You let out a surprised shriek and turned on your foot, stumbling and almost tripping onto the delicate and very expensive glass bottles on display behind you. The tall Russian male grabbed your arm from across the brass counter just as you fell and gave you support. You gasped in relief, your stomach fluttering as you got back to your feet.

 

"Th-thank you," you stuttered in Belorussian. The man looked at you curiously, and you remembered he was Russian. "Thank you," you repeated in Russian pronunciation. Russian speakers couldn't understand Belorussians as well.* The man nodded with a smile, closing his eyes as he did so. Despite the innocent look that could be described as “cute”, he was towering over you so much it made you feel strangely off. He even had such a strong grip that if he were to close his fist completely, he could shatter your bones without even trying. 

 

The stranger had a big nose, a clean, pink tinted scarf that wrapped around his neck along with a long, tan jacket. Along with hair so blonde it had a sheen of silver, and those eerie violet eyes just like Nikolai's and Natalia's, he looked just like an average male.

 

But wait.

 

 _"If you ever see Ivan, call me. He's dangerous. He looks nice, but he can kill you just by flicking his finger. Not only that, he will kill you. After he tortures you to near death, of course. He_ will _hurt you, then heal you so that he can hurt you more. He’ll slap you down when you cry, tear your hair out of your head, and cut little pieces out of your skin while you sit and writhe. He’ll smile the entire time. And when you think you’re finally safe, the door will open, and despair crushes you once more. He’ll step on you. Beat you. Rape you. He’ll get others to come and laugh at you, like its some sort of party. He's something more than evil, and yet Natalia pretends to love him..."_

 

Your hands started to shake again. You gulped. Those eyes. The feeling in your gut.

 

He was Ivan. He was Ivan Braginski.


	5. Chapter 5

You thought about your chances if you ran. You probably had 0 chances of winning a fight with the boulder of a man. You quickly decided to get the hell out of there and call Nikolai. He always went on about how he would kill Ivan anyways… he would keep you safe. You couldn't see any actual weapons Ivan held besides his immense strength, and Nikolai kept those deadly daggers that were like obsidian. You believed Nikolai would save you. 

 

Now, there was a little catch. You would have done just that, if Ivan was not still clutching onto your forearm. He still wore that soft smile that initially looked adorable, but now looked so, so frightening. You knew what Nikolai was talking about now. That evil beyond evil. You saw _fire_ in those eyes, flames that ate away at everything they saw with the glow of Hell. Those eyes were vastly different from Nikolai's. His were the same shade of Ivan’s, yet his glowed with something. An emotion. Something warm. Something you had desired all this time to decipher. Unfortunately, you may never be able to find out as you saw your life being sealed up in front of you with a sharp snap of the fingers.

 

You still had your left hand free. Your cell was in your jean pocket, and you could feel its shape against you. You had kept Nikolai’s number on speed dial if the time ever came. At first you were skeptical, but look at where you are right now. You prayed to any divine being that Ivan wouldn't notice you, and slowly drew your hand towards your pocket. You felt the top of the cute, pink Hello Kitty case you had gotten for it a couple weeks ago. So close. You tried as quietly as you could to drag it out of your jean pocket, and in the meantime you made contact with those hellish eyes. 

 

You smiled as sweetly as you could, trying to turn up the dazzle for just a little bit. You never had much practice with charming men, but this was a life or death situation. 

 

"So, what's your name, Sir? Can I get you anything?" you asked in a sugared tone, twisting your arm lightly to see if he would budge. He didn’t. His gloved hand that seemed to swallow up your entire arm still kept its grip, further enhancing your anxiety. He wasn't letting go of you. Were you going to die today, quickly? Would you be able to say goodbye to any of your other friends? Or would you be taken and tortured, like Nikolai exaggerated? Would anybody notice your absence? Would they be able to figure out what happened to you? So many questions in your head bounced around, and all revolved around your imminent death. 

 

"You have no need to know mine," he said in a harsh tone, all innocence gone with a blink of the eye. The flames grew in his eyes, engulfing the iris. “I’m sure you already fucking know. My dearest little brother certainly does. In fact, I need to talk to him soon.” His stare narrowed, as his grin widened. “After I’m done with you, of course. Ladies always prioritize.”

You swallowed thickly, pressing the call button with your thumb. You kept it hidden behind your back and under your apron, flicking on the mute microphone switch as it dialed. You squeezed it in your hand nervously like it was your absolute lifeline, and hoped that Nikolai would be able to get what was happening from listening in. Please, come save me... you pleaded.

\---

Nikolai's phone buzzed in his pocket as he sat in an uncomfortable airport seat. He looked strange since he had no suitcases or bags, not even a backpack. He had packed nothing, but he needed nothing. He had bought a one-way ticket to Moscow, Russia and would continue to hunt down his siblings. One to find and convince her love, one to find and murder his already dead body. Not the best plan, yes, but it was something. 

 

He slipped it out his jacket pocket and eyed the Caller ID. He didn't know it, but it was a Belorussian area code. He wondered if he should answer it, but he had a bad feeling of what lay on the other end. It kept vibrating in his hand.

 

With a frustrated huff, he flicked it open.

 

"Who the hell are you?" he asked dully. There was no answer, only the loud static sound from ruffling fabric against the microphone. "Hey! Answer me, you fuck!" he repeated, annoyed. Was it those idiotic prank calls? They were becoming frequent although Nikolai was careful not to throw around his number like it was nothing. He wanted to hang up, but he was a bit curious.

 

"Um, could you please let go of me...?" 

 

He could feel a bolt of lightning hit him as he knew that voice. It was you. Why would be you calling him? Had you done something dumb and wanted to run to someone? Idiot. You'd already done that, and that was the reason he didn't ever save your number. He didn't like to be woken up at 5 AM because you thought there was a murderer in your house, only to find it was just a friend. He scoffed and was about to hang up before another voice entered the call.

 

"Actually, I can't."

 

His heart stopped as he stood abruptly, accidentally hitting the young tourist couple on his side. He ignored their obnoxious cries and demand for apologies, instead focusing his attention into the horror that was echoing into his ear.

 

Ivan. That cold, delicate voice that was used in interrogation rooms—the voice in his ear as he bled on the floor and waited for doctors to come in to patch him for the next day of torture and glee. That voice that was going to harm _you_ next.

 

"See, you little, pretty girl… it seems that you have become a, ere, how do I word this… oh yes! _Threat_ to me. My spies tell me you are friends with the little wimp that shouldn’t even be allowed to share my blood. Anyways, it’ll be bothersome to have him on my case. And since it’s too hard to get rid of him, I might as well just kill you instead.”

 

"K-kill me?!"

 

Nikolai closed his eyes as his breath started coming in at rapid speeds. The day he had finally decided wouldn't come had came. You were going to be hurt, like he had been. You were going to be kidnapped. Tortured. Your goofy smile you had all the time for no reason at all would be stamped upon, over and over, until you broke completely. And worst of all, as Ivan had said... 

 

Killed. 

 

He was frozen to the spot though. He needed to listen to more. He couldn't move, only listen. 

 

"What?! No, stop! Please! Don't hurt me—!!"

 

The phone was dropped onto the floor. Nikolai winced as he heard it clatter away, the thuds sharp in his ear. He could hear your muffled shrieks, and then....

 

Nothing. There was nothing. His feet started to move without his permission, a slow walk at first. He shoved people out of his way. He started jogging. The line was still connected. He could definitely hear the sound of shuffling feet. He started breaking into a run. He held onto the cell as he burst out the airport doors, running as fast as his legs would take him down to the bar. Ivan was taking you. He took Natalia's heart, and now he would take you?! His body overcome with rage, he only ran faster. He was about to hang up, before…

His violet eyes widened as the voice he hated and secretly feared spoke only one line to him. 

 

"I have her.”


	6. Chapter 6

\--2 Weeks before--

"Why do you love Natalia so much?"

 

Nikolai stared you down with the same look he gave you every day—one of annoyance and hatred. But, if he did hate you, he wouldn't be talking to you at all. He sighed and took a sip of his vodka, not flinching at the strong taste. He treated it like water, and you doubted that even if you gave him pure alcohol he wouldn’t notice. You waited for him to answer your sudden question, rolling on the balls of your feet.

 

"She is beautiful. Unlike you," he said, with an added jeer. You just ignored them by now. It was sadly, now very easy for you to shrug off the harsh insults. That's what came with Nikolai. You wondered at night if he really thought like he spoke in his heart. 

 

"And?" you asked skeptically. You didn't believe that love could only be based on looks. You also didn't believe in a 'Love at first sight' myth, but you did believe in being attracted to ones physical features at first. Was that the case here? Did Nikolai devote himself so much to this one girl because she was aesthetically pleasing?

 

"And what?" he asked bluntly. You rolled your eyes playfully, but didn't dare to punch him in the arm as you would to other regulars. You would get yourself killed with that, and you still had _some_ wariness around Nikolai.

 

"Is that all you love her for?" you continued, putting your head in your palms. Your messy [Hair Colour] ponytail scratched at your skin not annoyingly, but even so you brushed it behind you on instinct. You caught Nikolai watching this motion. You met his gaze curiously, but he dropped it so quickly it was like it never happened.

 

"Why do you even care..." he muttered. Even after a pint and a half of pure, undiluted vodka, his cheeks were still completely pale. You were a barista, but ironically you got tipsy after a single sip. You tugged at your hair subconsciously and nodded for him to continue. He swirled his glass and you watched the ice cubes twirl as he spoke on. 

 

"I love her because she is perfect. She is intimidating, and strong. She's sturdy and can handle herself. I like that the most."

 

You once again pictured the pale haired woman in your mind, numbly agreeing that she was strong indeed. In fact, she probably crushed anybody that stood in her way for more than half a second. Another question drifted past your thoughts, so you spoke without thinking.

 

"So why do you hate Ivan so much? You always talk about killing him. Could you really? You're always saying he's strong, too." 

 

"Damn, you're full of questions aren't you?" he scowled, glaring at you. He dropped his gaze back to the liquor and thought for a moment, before speaking again. 

 

"Do you doubt my strength?"

 

The tone was demanding, and also challenging. He was challenging you to tell him he was weaker than this shadow you didn't even know was like. But with all his stories and angry rants, you truly pondered upon this Ivan's strength. 

 

"No," you said truthfully. You didn't doubt him. You knew he was brave, strong, and the type of prideful man who would stand fighting even if he had a knife in his stomach. Hell, even fifty knives in his stomach. Those men died often, but you admired them all the same. You envied their strength, physical and mental.

 

He nodded once in approval, and you felt the gloat coming off of him. You smiled softly. He was also the arrogant one, too.

 

As if in reward for answering correctly, he answered your previous one. "He stole Natalia from me. He's evil. That's all. Nothing else."

 

His last phrases were suspicious. You waited for him to continue, but he was quiet again, leaving you to think. There was an air of dismissal around him and you knew not to ask any more questions. Cross that line, and once again you would be the one lying in the street tomorrow.

 

But you knew he was hiding something from you. The way he spoke so harshly, the way he left you hanging. The way his eyes froze instead of shifting around cautiously like they always did. The way he would keep tapping nervously on his knee, and the way he bit his lip.

 

You read him more than he knew. 

 

"I don't think you should judge him by just that. I'm sure he's a good man—" you started in a sympathetic voice, only to be cut off with such an angry scream the entire bar quieted. You stared at him with your bright eyes extremely wide, your pulse racing as he had a murderous look. 

 

"Shut up! You don’t know him—th-the pain of lying in the cold at night, and not knowing if you would live to see the next! You don’t know anything? You’re just a fucking stupid little bitch who sits at home all day, warm and cozy… Do you even know what evil is? To you, is it the guy who cuts in line in front of you? Are you that _fucking_ dumb?!”

 

"Nikolai—!" you cried with bewilderment when he had finished. He ignored you as he spun out of his chair and stalked away, the ringing tone of his voice still faint in the air. You cried after him again, stumbling on your own feet as you tried to follow after, but he was already gone. Nothing but an empty glass remained of the man, and your tears.


	7. Chapter 7

"Nikolai?"

 

"What?"

 

The girl watched him with an observer's gaze, studying his movements. Perhaps she would, especially after his little tantrum the week before. Oh well, it didn't matter. The girl was always obedient to him. Like a dog. He then thought about how much he hated dogs. How dirty and wet they always seemed. He still thought you were like a dog.

 

He raised a thin eyebrow before repeating the short question even more harshly. She had taken a liking to using his first name and refused to revert back to calling him formally by Mr. Arlovskaya. Though he didn't like it, he bore with it. It shut you up anyways, and seemed to make you happy. You looked stupid when you smiled all the time, but he didn't want you to pout either. Either way, you looked stupid. Dumb. Idiotic.

 

You looked down at your fingers, fumbling with them. He was curious. What was this question you wanted to ask? You had always just blurted out plain stupid to obviously offensive questions whenever you wanted to. When he told you to start thinking properly and use your brain, you told him rebelliously that: "I speak my mind, and nobody can stop me!"

 

Idiot. 

 

"Have you ever... killed anyone?"

 

This question shocked him. He paused in the action of lifting his glass to his mouth, before setting it down. He stared at you with suspicious eyes, trying to figure out your motive. You made no attempt to meet his gaze and kept looking at your hands, pushing your fingers together.

 

"Why do you want to know?" he asked, narrowing his darkening eyes. This varied off the trail of the questions you usually asked. You asked meaningless things like, "What's your favourite colour?" He didn't know. He didn't care. Shut up. "What's your favourite animal?" He didn't know. He didn't care either, so shut up already. "What's your favourite food?" Again, he didn't know—didn't care. Go away, stupid girl. "Do you like flowers?" _Really?_

 

Just. Shut. _Up._

 

"I just..." you voice broke and you took a breath to collect yourself together. "I just... you always say you'll _kill,_ or _murder,_ Ivan when you see him... But does that mean... Have you done it before? Have you stolen a life?"

 

You finally looked up, and your [Eye Colour] eyes were glassy with moisture. He frowned. Why were you crying? There was no reason to. It was his life, and he chose how he lived it. You weren't in it. You were just a bystander, with no say. A nameless shadow. 

 

"If you don't kill them, how will you get rid of them? Murderers, rapists, thieves, and crazy people will all get released and walk the streets that you do. Would you want that? I think not," he said icily, taking a sip carelessly. He spoke from his heart, as that was what he believed. He never had actually killed anybody before, but he was sure it was easy. Stab, withdraw, walk. Run if somebody comes by. Simple. 

 

"Oh. So does that mean... you... did? Nikolai?"

 

Your voice ended off with that high-pitched cracking noise that happens before someone cried. There was even a heavy note of dismay in it. He looked up, startled, to see you wiping your eyes with your sleeve. He turned his face into a scowl, but inside he was sweating. Why were you crying? Was it his answer? Why would you care that much? 

 

"Possibly," he said shortly, betraying none of the useless emotions raging inside of him. He took a breath and thought of Big Sister. It calmed him instantly, with her round eyes, fluffy hair and soft skin. He looked back at you with a tinge of disgust as you started sniffling. It was obvious you were trying not to cry but couldn't. Your nose ran, a shiny stream of snot inching down. You looked uglier than you usually did. But with that thought came a small twang of an emotion he never felt before. Was it…

 

Guilt?

 

His stomach felt like it was sinking out of his body, and his skin became clammy. A bad feeling arose in his chest, making his palms sweatier. Should he comfort you? Apologize? 

 

Absolutely not. Why should he care this much about somebody like you? You were a nameless shadow. Just that.

 

He stood and walked away silently, leaving you to cry.

\---

You always thought he was a good man. The best people were like that. You just had to convince them to show it. He was only just another one of them, a hardened rock shell with a soft heart in the middle. You just had to crack it, right?

 

Only that when you cracked the shell of Nikolai, you only found an even icier shell with nothing inside. Nothing. Where a heart should be was nothing but an empty cavern and a cool blade that pierced your own heart. He was nothing but ruthless. There was nothing to be seen. Anybody, even a _stranger_ wouldn't leave you to bawl your eyes out. He wouldn't be so harsh to you if he actually liked you, like you liked him. Hell, he wouldn’t act so horrible to you if he even remotely acknowledged you! How many hours had you spent listening to him? Listening to his problems and letting him talk to someone? How many seconds did he allow you to even mention _your_ insecurities before simply getting up and leaving?

 

A coward, that’s what. He was a coward, a heartless demon, and a man not to be trusted. 

 

Good bye, Nikolai Arlovskaya.


	8. Chapter 8

You felt a little bit woozy. Scratch that, _very_ woozy. Today, several men had come in and done a drinking contest. It was already late into the night, but they had already been out partying earlier. When you watched on, they invited you to join. You accepted although you knew you couldn't hold your liquor, even if God had commanded you to. So you lost at the first shot, but you enjoyed the fun and laughter all the same.

 

It was just after 1 in the morning. You had let the men stay in a little after closing time since they were having so much fun. The sky was as dark as velvet outside, and the moon let in a soft white glow against the pale, empty sidewalk.

 

It was a bad idea to join them, you thought wryly, gingerly prodding your temples. You gingerly removed your apron, the movements painful. Your drunk high had already passed, bringing the horrid hangover with it. The shadows were too bright, the silence was too loud, and the nothing was too much. Your job as a barista was so ironic it was funny. Maybe you should have gone down the therapist or psychiatry lane, since that was the only reason you loved work. 

 

You were a people person. You liked to talk and would ramble non-stop until somebody told you to shut up. You were cheerful, and nobody ever saw you sad. Everybody liked you, in ways of a friend or even those braving their fears to ask you out onto a date. You of course, refused, as you weren't ready for a commitment even as simple as a coffee invitation. You were young, you were naive, and you were just not ready for life. You didn't mind, however. You didn't need a man at this stage of your life. You needed to have fun so that when your life flickered before your dying eyes, you could smile and pass happily.

 

The door opened, making you jump. Didn’t you lock them already? You must have forgotten to when you were dismissing your previous guests. You winced, shielding your eyes with a hand. It was hardly any more light, but your eyes stung. You wished nothing more but to go to bed, which you would have if not for the intruders.

 

"Hey baaaby! Nice ass, as always!" a drunken voice sounded in a weird accent that sounded like Russian, Belarusian, Ukrainian, and some other language all clashing together. You had to strain your ears and think hard to understand him. You opened your eyes wearily and saw the man from earlier, who you clearly remembered just waving goodbye to. He seemed like the centre of the attention, since he drank the most shots and had people pound on his back all day. You didn't remember if it was his birthday, his marriage, or just plain old "Hey look, it's Bob doing something stupid again!" attention. All you knew was that this guy was stumbling towards you, and even your hazy mind started to stir in alert. 

 

"What do you want? Why are you here?” you asked in alarm as he started to lean over the counter precariously. Instead of helping him, you wobbled back. He felt… dangerous. You felt that you needed to run, but fear froze you in place. All your bar-fight breaking instincts had melted away with the couple of drinks you had taken and you were, most definitely, _scared_.

 

"Baby, I just need you," he slurred, managing to get over the steep counter and crept towards you like a dead man. "I _want_ you, and..." in a darkly menacing tone, he added, "yur’ gonna please me, or else."

 

"Help," you squeaked in a pathetic whimper that caught in your throat. You slowly and shakily took out an empty glass bottle from the shelves behind you that still mustered considerable weight. That wasn't the greatest weapon to have, but it was all you had. You shook in fright, your sober mind buried underneath the haze of drunkenness. If you were normal, you'd whack him on the head and call a taxi. But you weren’t normal. You were scared, and you were going to let him abuse you like so many others did to other unlucky women. 

 

"Ya’ gonna please me!" the man shouted again, and launched himself towards you. His wet, ugly lips were puckered up and you managed a warbled scream, ducking into yourself. You held your elbows up to protect your face from him and squirmed, attempting to get out of his grasp. No matter what, you were not going to let him handle you so easily. 

 

Unfortunately, he was crazy strong.

 

He wrestled you down onto the counter behind you with such ease, anyone watching would think you were just letting him do this. You started screaming for help, screaming so loudly you made your own eardrums hurt. In your daze of fear, you cried Nikolai's name once.

 

 _No,_ your sober self said in a panic. _You hate him! And he hates you! He's not worth pursuing anymore, [Name]. You said it yourself!_

 

 _But,_ your helpless side argued. _He's all we've got. He's strong, too. I can forgive him, right? Right...?_

 

_No. He never came back for you. Wouldn't he try and stalk you again if he cared? He doesn't care, [Name]. He hates you, and he's leaving you alone._

 

With that thought, you halted your cries. The man kept moving sluggishly, thinking he was being suave as he stumbled all over you. You realized this and tried to move your wrists, but you were pinned down so roughly that there was no chance of escape. The only man you knew who could save you was the man you decided to turn on. With a quick decision, you threw away your pride and squeezed your eyes shut with devastation. You didn't want to call in the man you thought you now hated so, but it was your only choice.

 

Your stupid brain following that, with no hesitation you started _pleading_ for Nikolai, whimpering as the man ripped off your top. 

 

_Nikolai, I need you._

 

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

 

The man was thrust off of you—along with your shirt. You sat up in surprise as the cold air shocked your pale skin, your plain white bra exposed. You covered up your fragile, goose bump littered chest with tears streaming down the sides of your face. You turned to the right where crashes resonated, and saw a blur of straw with silver. Along with the beige coat you recognized as Nikolai's. He actually came. He actually cared. 

 

You were so thankful for him that you started blubbering harder, sliding off of the counter and onto the floor. You curled up into the ball and held the foreign places where the man had touched you, gasping for breath between sobs. You tried to calm yourself down with no avail, but listened to the screams of agony the drunken man let.

 

"Don't kill him," you called out as strongly as you could, although your eyes were closed. Just saying the word “kill” made you shudder. The sobs shook your body and you slid down even farther onto the cold floor. It was all you could take to keep yourself from falling unconscious. Nikolai, heeding your will, paused his throws. He asked if you were all right, but you couldn't answer. All you did was mumble. "Don't kill him... Don't hurt him... Just leave him... Please, Nikolai. 

 

Thank you, I love you."

 

And you keeled over, unable to resist the coaxing of sleep any longer.

\---

When you woke up, you were wrapped up in a jacket you recognized instantly as Nikolai's. You were lying in your bed, which puzzled you. How did he know you lived here, and how did he get in? 

 

Preferring not to debate yourself with useless questions, you pulled his jacket close to you. It was so big and lengthy it was like a blanket itself. You wondered how large of a number his size was. He wasn’t much taller than you, after all.

 

The worn felt was already warm and smelled like winter. The cold air clung onto his jacket along with a light fragrance of something that could only be described as delicious. You inhaled and smelled lavenders, but you also smelled honeys and other tasty things. It smelled like home.

 

You turned in your half-awake state and then felt yourself lying on a piece of crumpled paper. With a small groan of discomfort, you patted around your left arm and pulled it out. In the dim light your curtains strained to block, you squinted to read. It was so messy you had to bring it extremely close to your face, and then extremely far before you finally realized what letters they were. Putting the Belorussian scrawl together, you suddenly broke out in a large grin. 

 

You put it on your bed stand and closed your eyes, smiling as you fell asleep again, dozing away. You now held the knowledge that Nikolai actually cared for you, and would take desperate measures to help you. He cared. He didn't hate you.

 

Maybe he actually had a heart after all. It was now your mission to find it.

\---

_“You know you’re an idiot, right? A goddamn, stupid idiot who just can’t take care of herself for one second._

_If you’re reading this then you can acknowledge the fact that I cam back to try and apologize, despite how dumb that seems. It seems you were lucky that I decided to be a nice boy for once, because where would you be if I wasn’t there? Huh?_

_Don’t worry about the jacket. I don’t care. In fact, ~~I don’t care about you either~~ it’s fine._

_~~Take care~~ Try not to do something utterly stupid again._

_~~-Nikolai~~ _


	9. Chapter 9

\--Present--

You realized you were awake.

Your head throbbed with such an intense pain you felt like throwing up. Your eyes seemed glued shut, and despite your efforts you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Every heartbeat only made the pounding worse, even more painful then when you had gotten the flu and went through raging migraines every minute. You moaned in agony, your voice barely above silence because of your screaming earlier.

Ivan had gotten you, and you knew it. You wished you hadn't been so pathetic. A mental scowl was brought to your thoughts as you remembered his effortlessness. All he did was basically tap you on the forehead and you were all _sayonara!_ and off to Dreamland. 

So much for being a big girl.

You finally opened your eyes, which were still gritty with sleep. You saw nothing but a dark room through your curtain of hair, with something that resembled an electric lantern in a short distance. You wanted to open your mouth, but it was tightly shut with dehydration. You sat up slowly and rubbed your temples, trying to produce a game plan. You always functioned better when there was a schedule to follow. First, look around. 

You did so, scanning the room. The walls were hard cement, newly patched. You felt a wry drop of amusement. Ivan had made a new room just for his new little pet. You shuddered at the thought of him again. Nikolai was right. The man merely radiated evil. How could you have thought there was a shred of good in him?

The floor was the same, and had the smell of old dust. You sneezed just as you thought of it. You weren't allergic, but the tiny particles tickled inside of your nose irritably. There was a door on the wall, and you could see a bathroom inside. You would have gone to the sink to get a drink, but you felt too weak to drag yourself over there.

You looked over at the lantern again, feeling your chapped lips with your fingers. Your eyes trailed towards the darkness behind the lantern before jumping. There was a figure, and it was heading right towards you. 

Whimpering with fear, you slid backwards instinctively only to hit wall. The shadow started advancing even quicker towards you, the tall person's face lost in the shadow... Was it Ivan? Was he retrieving you for death? Torture? You wanted to scream for help, but there was nothing you could do in your feeble condition.

Then a woman's face appeared, pale in the bright white light of the fake lantern. She crouched before you, her pale blonde hair swinging in front of her. She looked tired and mangled, her small dress torn in several places and dirtied. Behind her, the dim light still managed to reflect off of her violet irises like they were crystals.

Violet...

She was Natalia! Natalia Arlovskaya—Nikolai's sister and lover.

"Finally, the dumb girl woke up. Who are you? You came in two days ago and kept lying there like a stupid log. I thought you were dead. Rotting flesh would do even worse for this dump. Your ugly face is also so, _extremely_ unappealing to look at.”

Yes, she was an Arlovskaya all right. The curt voice that held detest with every syllable, the exaggerated use of the word 'stupid', and the disdain. You felt overjoyed to see her, even though deep down you were jealous of Nikolai's love for her. You remembered all the times you wanted to march up to this woman and slap her in the face, but you tossed those small feelings away. If anything, you could believe that all the members of this deranged family you had gotten yourself involved with were crazy strong. You might be able to get her to help you escape.

You managed to moisten your lips enough to separate them, and tried to speak. Although you forced the sound through your throat, it failed. You were too weak.

"Oh, now you're being needy," she sneered. She stood and marched away, but returned shortly after with a tray. It held a small serving of what you _thought_ was soup, along with a glass of glorious water! That was also a disgusting greyish colour, but you couldn't be choosy right now. You lunged for it, greedily gulping it down. It tasted like dirt and lint, but it was the most delicious thing you ever had in your entire life. Downing the entire glass in less than a second, you went for the soup that had gone cold and began gobbling that down, eating as if you hadn't eaten since forever. Natalia watched you with an air of disgust, but sat there all the same. When you finished, she rested her head in her palm and glared at you again.

"Who are you?" she repeated.

"[Name]. [Name], [Last Name]. You _are_ Natalia, right?" you willed your voice not to waver, because you needed to prove yourself to her before she would help you. It was a law you had picked up while working with Nikolai. Since you assumed his twin would be somewhat similar, you would just exercise the knowledge you gained on him with her. 

"How do you know that?" she snapped, but you were more than used to the whip-like voice of this family. 

"I know Nikolai. I'm his..." you hesitated, before looking her right in the eye, "Friend."

"Ha! That little boy has a friend? No wonder you have such a stink on you."

You didn't know how to respond. You sat there instead and stared at her rebelliously, fire in your eyes. You would stand up for Nikolai, because you knew he cared. You trusted him, and even if he would never trust you, you would always trust him.

It worked. Natalia's retaliation got lost in her throat with your stare. She scowled, her brow furrowing. She shook her head disbelievingly but kept her mouth shut.

"I'm surprised that idiot's still alive…" she muttered. She looked back at you disapprovingly and stood, walking backwards into the shadow. 

"Natalia?" you whimpered as she disappeared again. You didn't feel safe by yourself, and felt like you needed a big scary Belorussian girl to keep you focused away from your fear. 

"My side, your side," her voice rang clear with an annoyed little sigh, the ones apathetic royalty used. She continued, her words shattering your hope like glass dropped onto the cold hard cement. "Ah, hopefully Ivan will come and kill you soon. He always had with the other women he brought... Those little _bitches_.... No. No worries. It's alright, because I forgive him... besides, I bet he’ll have fun with you. You’re young. I want him to be happy, because then he’ll be happy with me… yes…" she was rambling now, muttering to herself. It was like she had totally forgotten about you, which may be more helpful for the time being. 

You slunk away from her, tears brimming in your eyes. You lay down and curled into a ball, silent streams of tears slowly slipping down your face. Would help ever come?


	10. Chapter 10

For what felt like years, you lay on the musty cement and stared at the wall. Natalia didn't even speak a word to you once, except for the occasional grunt to alert you that the food was here. Sometimes you watched her corner of the enclosed space, yet all she did was pace, sleep, or sit and stare at nothing. How long had she even been here before you? You tried to start conversation with her, but she would just glare at you until you trailed off and was quiet again.

 

You felt like dying.

 

Your hair was oily and sometimes hardened in the frigid cold of the basement. You didn't even need to say anything else about your hygiene, for you would just cringe. There wasn’t even a shower or bath in the so called "bathroom". It was just a toilet and a sink in a space smaller than a public washroom's cubicle. After all, sinks were not great for bathing, especially not in ice cold water. 

 

Every time you exhaled, your breath froze in front of you. It hurt to inhale because the air was so icy against your lungs. You wanted so much to just be able to do _something_ for warmth besides the flimsy rag that had been pushed into the room to serve as blankets. Hell, you’d even huddle to the only other living thing in the room—Natalia. But that was definitely crossed off the list. She had established a fine rule of hatred towards you, and you didn't feel like being slapped by her anymore. It had hurt plenty enough the first few times. 

 

As for time, you had no idea what day nor time it was. It could be months later, or mere hours. Constant darkness did things to people... the more you tried to stay sane, the harder it was to keep a firm grip on reality. If you didn't try at all, you could kiss mentality good bye. You tried to keep yourself active by doing push-ups, but it didn't help since your fingers were too numb to function. You resorted to lying down all day and tried to count to a million. You always lost somewhere, mumbling stupid things to yourself like random song lyrics and then bursting out in silent tears. The moisture froze on your eyelashes anyways.

 

The only hint you of whatever lay outside was when the tiny flap under the door was pushed open to deliver the food. It brought in bright light that flooded across the room's floor, but then again, it could just be artificial. You had tried prying it open to perhaps squirm through, but it was made of some sort of metal and was so heavy that you broke your nails on it. You tried so hard that your fingers became bloody, and you had to retreat. Besides, you weren't skinny enough to fit in through the square, and neither was the tiny Natalia. So much for hope.

 

You tapped on the floor, your eyes half lidded with a heavy sleep. It was too uncomfortable for much rest, so all you could do was lie there. For hours, days... maybe even years. Ha, maybe you would even be frozen and live until the far future! You closed your eyes as a hysterical laugh bubbled in your stomach, tuning into a little sob on its way through your lips. Your sanity was spinning away from you with every second.

 

Suddenly the door opened.

 

You bolted upwards and turned to the noise, your heart racing with sudden adrenaline. Could you run for it? Your captors had never opened the door before for anything, except for the occasional time to take Natalia. Never you. She always came back with silent sobs and a mangled body. When you asked her about it, she would only snap at you and go on about another rant about how wonderful her brother was. You knew he was doing things to her and didn’t want to ever know exactly what.

 

If it wasn't anything torture-related, they would only flip open the little slot underneath. You had tried to scream through the crack in the slot the first couple of days, only being rewarded by a harsh slap to the face by Natalia. You were pretty sure her finger had broken and having contact with your face made it worse. She then sunk her bony elbow into your stomach, making you breathless for hours. You kept quiet afterwards.

 

She was an interesting piece of work, refusing to believe that Ivan had no feelings for her. She was focused only on him, and she was too determined to take him that she didn't notice his cruelty. She never noticed when he called taunts at her, nor when he took her out to do those things all day. You knew that dark and crazy love was something—the only thing—that kept her sane, and you were too pitiful of her to take it away. 

 

Back to the door. You saw Natalia's silhouette rise and a warbled cry of joy. "Ivan! Big Brother, finally! You have come for me! Thank you!"

 

It was almost as if your heart had just suddenly stopped with fear. The pulse you had felt roaring in your ears like footsteps grew louder, black spots dotting your vision before you remembered to breathe. You sucked in air with a panic, unable to actually absorb any oxygen.

 

If Ivan had come personally, you were dead. You would be strung up on a noose and pushed until you couldn't twitch a finger. Or maybe he would drown you, caging you in a glass box and tossed into an arctic Russian lake. Where you would sink slowly and die of oxygen starvation and radiation exposure. Maybe he would lock you up and slice your flesh away bit by bit, skinning you and then crunching your bones with his tools. Maybe he would strip you of your clothing and push you into a pit with rabid wolves, chortling to himself at the song of your screams. Whatever method the evil demon would use, he had finally come. Your time was up. Nikolai was late. There was nothing left for you. 

 

"Get off of me, scum," he spoke in harsh Russian, and you heard the sickening crunch of boot hitting bone. There was the startled and wheezy gasp of Natalia and the deep _thump_ of a body hitting the ground. Your ever-giving conscious urged you to crawl to her, but you resisted it. There was no time for selflessness right now. You were paralyzed and couldn't wiggle your fingers, much less walk.

 

"So, [Name]... How are you enjoying your stay, dear?" his voice was cool and steady, letting nothing of remorse or pity enter his speech. You cringed when he called you "dear", as if it was just an easy conversation between lovers. It disgusted you. He truly didn't care about his little sister, did he? He had just kicked her like always—maybe even broken one of her bones again—but he said nothing. Was he this emotionless when he took her for his "play-doll"?

 

His bright violet eyes reflected the dim light of the battery run lanterns as he closed the door behind him. You watched the bright light disappear behind the metal door, along with your escape. All doors locked except for one—to death. Soon you would be shoved into it, and you could already see _its_ arms welcoming you. Slimy and cold. Darker than black. 

 

You were going to die.

 

"I can't hear you," he whispered, suddenly right in front of you. You squeaked with fear and jumped backwards, your muscles propelling you away without any thought. Your entire form shook. You were going to die today. You were going to die. You knew it. Just when did he get so close? Merely sharing the same breath as him made you feel like you would vomit.

 

"You know, I've kept the little bitch over there here for about a year now," he said, raising his voice so that the shaking figure of Natalia could hear. In the dim lighting the measly lanterns emitted, you definitely saw blood starting to seep through her already dirtied maid dress. She was whimpering in an almost pathetic way, her breaths short and hurried. You stared at him with large eyes, not knowing where he was going with this. He only looked back at you and cocked his head, his silvery locks shifting aside like some sort of fluid. He could be attractive if he wasn't so evil. You wondered where he had gone wrong... 

 

"Brother?" Natalia whimpered. You shot her a look, telling her to shut up. If she was bleeding, that was already not good. If she strained herself, she might even force the broken rib into her own lung—or even worse—beating heart. 

 

Ignoring her, Ivan paused his speech to stare at you. His attention was eerily focused only on you, and his eyes kept darting around your slumped frame hungrily. You already knew where he was looking, and felt self-conscious. Was he going to... touch you? Rape you before stabbing you with his daggers? You were only a toy to him.

 

"And she's been so stupid to think that she'll be free," he sighed to break the fragile silence. The tension was skyrocketing, and your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest. Ivan was acting disappointed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. There was even more ragged whimpering from Natalia, incomprehensible words streaming out of her paling lips. Distracted by her broken body, you didn't notice Ivan lunging at you. 

 

He grasped you around the neck, his cold fingers closing around your throat and cutting off your air. It hurt. It felt like your pulse would force your eyes right out of your skull. You felt like you were going blind because of all the dark spots dancing in your vision. You felt your blood trying to force itself through his iron hold, only to fail. It hurt, and you needed him to stop. You gagged, thrashing in a desperate attempt to break free. He didn't even notice your fight—to him you were just a squirming little fish. A little fish that was caught in the giant bear's paws, his sharp talons tickling at your delicate skin. His razor sharp teeth were bared, ready to slice you open and chew you live.

 

"See, my dear little girl? See her, [Name]? She's so ugly, lying there so weakly... A rat? No, she is much uglier than a mere scrounging rat... How about you, [Name]? How would you describe this little bitch?" His scornful tone was softened as he spoke to you, only to rise in volume and sharpness as he addressed his own little sister. How dare he? How dare he treat his kin like sex slaves, something only to be broken and used? Bitter anger washed over you only to dissipate as his grip tightened on your throat. 

 

He dragged you over to Natalia, your body numb to the scraping of stones on your skin. You needed to breathe, but you couldn't. No air. No life. You'll be dead in seconds. Despite all of this raging inside of your weakening mind, you forced yourself to stay conscious. You stopped struggling and closed your eyes, only using your energy to keep yourself awake long enough. Your blood pounded in your ears and you almost couldn't hear Ivan anymore as he spoke, his voice much too soft even though his icy cold lips brushed against your earlobe. But whatever he was saying, it was taking harsh effects on Natalia. All you could hear in the darkness of your closing mind was her anguished cries as you hung limply in Ivan's grasp. There was a cracking noise, but you couldn't think of what it could be. Air. You needed air.

 

Then the hand disappeared abruptly from your neck and you fell to the ground, making horrible noises as you gasped for breath. You retched, but your stomach had nothing to give. You dry-heaved for several moments, your saliva streaming from your mouth. Everything felt like it needed to force its way out of you. Your knees were throbbing sharply with pain from the impact, but you couldn't even notice it.

 

"Natalia, you were silly from the start. So I will punish you for as long as it takes for you to understand..."

 

You felt his cold and gloved fingers on your skin again, but you could do nothing to break away from them. It was sort of cooling against your now bruised throat, but you knew better than to feel relieved by him. You fell towards him, head lolling like a doll's. Your voice had been broken, and it felt like you were swallowing gravel with every ragged and forced breath. He was caressing you—strange, foreign brushes across your neck. You hated it. You hated how the tips of his silvery hair stabbed at your skin when he leaned in close, or how his eyes seemed to cut right through you. You hated how his disgusting touch made your stomach churn with nausea and how his soft voice was so deceiving to the evil behind his words. 

 

He then promptly leaned down and kissed you.

 

You heard the ugly sobbing of Natalia as she lay somewhere in front of you, but you could see nothing. Only his pale skin in front of your widening eyes, a lock of white brushing past your skin. _He was kissing you._

 

Your own mental screams drowned out as Ivan's cold and hard lips pressed against yours. It was nothing like sweet exchange of love, which was what a kiss was. From him, it was a death seal. Like some sort of demon was sucking out your soul. He slid his slimy tongue over your lips, and you were powerless. He ran his tongue over your teeth, unrightfully exploring the depths of your mouth with a dominance that was frightful. You wanted to make noises of repulsion to him, but your body refused to work with you. You shuddered as he did his way with you—a lifeless girl with no voice. He was so horrible to the touch, so disgusting that you wanted to vomit all over him. But all you could do was lie there, letting his long fingers slide up the hem of your dirty shirt. You felt the hovering touch over your breasts, before he groped you with no mind that you were in pain. He was stealing a kiss from you, but he was also touching you! With no permission, just the simple fact that he would kill you if you did not sit down and spread your legs for him. You were a rag doll in his arms, and that rag doll was torture for Natalia. He was abusing her mind more than he could ever harm you, despite his harsh fingers against your bruising skin. You wanted to cry but all your body could muster was wet, silent tears leaking out the side of your eyes. 

 

He let you go and you fell to the floor again, your head slamming against the concrete. You still weren't unconscious yet, but your head lolled around dumbly in your matted hair. You heard Ivan's cruel chuckle and the footsteps of him leaving the room, along with Natalia's broken shrieks of misery. 

 

 _Nikolai?_ you thought as you finally closed your eyes, submitting to a tiring ache that filled your entire body. _I don't know where you are. I don't know where I am. I don't know if you're thinking about me, like I'm thinking about you now... oh, I'd kill just to be able to see you. Even if you are chastising me, I want to see you._

_Why were you even so set on Natalia? Such dedication for somebody who was already stubbornly set on somebody else…_

_I don't even know if I’ll wake up tomorrow. Maybe this is my last sleep. It’s kind of regretful. I wanted to be able to kiss you before I died... Or maybe it was just to make you happy. Or smile. Yeah. Something like that. You're never happy, so I wanted to kiss you. What am I even saying now...? Oh, god. I'm really dying. The most wonderful part is that my last memories are being groped by the evil bastard who kidnapped me._

_Nikolai, you can't hear me. I'm delirious, talking to you through my mind! Idiot [Name], like always. Right? Well, I just wanted to let you know that I… love you. I don't want you to be sad, so maybe you'll take my advice for once and find your way. I was selfish, so selfish. I wanted to be with you at all times and even broke it off with my ex for you... Burnt bridges… Did you even care? You looked at me with a sort of sadness when I told you. I guess._

_There I go, ranting off again... Why am I still thinking like this, like I'm talking with you? There are no answers or anything. I'm talking to myself. Yes, I'm really going to die..._

_Oh well. Thanks, I suppose... For being the last person I fell in love with._

_I love you. Even if you never will care... [Name] [Last Name] fell in love with Nikolai Arlovskaya._

_Goodbye._


	11. Chapter 11

You felt like you were floating, peacefully drifting down a river. Your breaths came in easy and slow, and the water around you was cool. You felt light as air, the silence in the air heavy like a blanket. You felt so relaxed. All you wanted to do was stay here, and never wake up…

 

Your eyes snapped open. You weren’t dead. You were alive. You gasped and thrashed, the memory of Ivan still haunting your vision. You screamed and screamed, clutching at yourself and curling into a tight ball. You shrieks reduced to whimpers. Maybe you weren’t dead. But now, you were mad.

 

When you managed to calm down to swift, shallow gasps, you heard something else. A soft moan. Natalia. How could you forget?

 

You forced yourself to your hands and knees, your dim eyes searching for a lump in the darkness. There she was, reaching out for you. You crawled over and hesitantly took her hand, clutching it.

 

“Nat,” you croaked. “Are you okay?” You voice was slurred. You forgot what words were. You managed the sentence before collapsing to the floor again, still holding onto Natalia’s hand.

 

“No,” she breathed. Her hand clenched around yours. “I am not.”

 

You felt like crying again, but you had no energy. You hadn’t died yet, but maybe you would now. How much longer would you be saved before you got pulled away from Earth?

 

“I’m dead.”

 

Her voice brought you away from your thoughts. You squeezed her hand, as if it might help her.

 

“No, you’re not. You’re alive. I’m here.”

 

She finally turned to face you. You saw a dead woman’s face, gaunt and void of anything but sadness. Her blue-violet eyes were dull, and thin lips were slightly agape, drawing in measly amounts of air. 

 

“We’re going to die, then,” she whispered. “He killed us both.”

 

Her absolute certainty surprised you. The fact that she was mirroring your earlier thoughts made you feel almost… responsible for her. You dragged your other arm across the floor and clasped it around hers again, warming the cold digits. 

 

“We will not die,” you told her firmly, your voice quiet but strong. “We will get out of here, and we will get Ivan sent to a hell only he deserves.”

 

“But how?” she sobbed again, her fingers contracting around yours tightly. Every movement obviously hurt her. You let her hold on to you, so hard that it hurt. You let her hold on because you were her rock, and she was yours. You were probably already crazy, but you needed to reassure yourself and Natalia. You needed hope.

 

“Nikolai… he’ll find us.”

 

“That boy? Why would you trust him so much?” her voice was breathy, but the bewilderment was obvious. You closed your eyes and gently replied,

 

“Because I love him.”

\-- 1 Week Earlier --

The Belorussian man stirred slightly at mention of his name, before his features contorted into an ugly scowl. He lifted his head off of his palm and glared at the woman in front of him, who watched him back with a sort of tentativeness that suggested she feared him. That was good. He liked it when people were afraid—no, _terrified_ —of him. It guaranteed obedience and he got quick answers without meaningless small chat. 

 

With a sudden pang, he realized this trait had probably come from his big brother Ivan. He shuddered, a small tremor rocking through his spine as he struggled to compose himself. There were to be no thoughts about the maniacal man he called "big brother", unless they were about killing him. After all, Ivan had done nothing but abuse him throughout his childhood. Nikolai grit his teeth and forced the memories away, the dull scars on his pale skin already aching.

 

"I told you to call me Arlovskaya, bitch!" he hissed to his "therapist", the light brunette with oval glasses and a plain blue dress. She winced at his harsh tone and straightened her back, pulling her black blazer around herself nervously. He quieted with smug satisfaction as he watched her high-heel clad foot jiggle around while she scribbled a note on her clipboard. He didn't care. If he was sent to a mental hospital or whatever, he'd just break out. He'd slipped through worse.

 

"Alright, Mr. Arlovskaya," she replied coolly. With slight impressment, he regarded the fact that she forced her voice to remain steady. He registered this with a bit of respect and shifted in his armchair, positioning himself to watch out the window again. It was a warm Sunday morning—at least to the natives. His breath still frosted in front of him, but it was warm enough to keep his jacket open and embrace the chilly air of home. He'd finished visiting you as usual before he dragged himself here on your angry request. He winced at the memory of your nagging tone, as you ushered him out the bar and told him with a sickeningly motherly voice to go to his treatment.

 

 _‘It’ll help!’_ you scolded him, cutting across his angry retorts. _’And if you don’t care, then just go once. For me?’_

 

‘For me’. He still scoffed. As if he was attached enough to do _you_ a favor.

 

But then, why was he here?

 

Luckily, his attention was torn from that question as his therapist cleared her throat. She looked at him with an inquiring gaze, one that studied him like he was some sort of zoo animal. He scowled again.

 

“Why are you back, Mr. Arlovskaya? You have not visited us for more than, let’s see… 3 years. Why take up your appointment again?”

 

He huffed. She asked the same question he did. He scratched his head nonchalantly, trying to think of an answer.

 

“Somebody told me to.”

 

“And is this person a friend of yours, Mr. Arlovskaya?”

 

His frown turned darker. He didn’t want to be here anymore, nor get questioned so personally. His thoughts were his alone. Who cared how his mental state was anyways? He didn’t give a shit about society, and so society shouldn’t care about him. 

 

“No,” he told her truthfully, deciding to play along grudgingly. Maybe if he actually finished a session, they’d stop bugging him. He watched as she scribbled something on her paper, and waited for another question.

 

“Why don’t you tell me about this person, Mr. Arlovskaya? It isn’t your sister that you’ve told me about, is it?”

 

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “This bitch doesn’t even deserve to be said in the same sentence with Natalia.”

 

“Then why have you mentioned her in the first place, if you don’t care about her?”

 

That got him. His breaths froze, his brow furrowing. Why did he think about you? Why did he make it his priority to visit you every day? 

 

Why did he deny every feeling about you?

 

“That’s enough,” he said forcefully, getting to his feet. He stormed out the door, but the uneasiness was still in his stomach.

 

It was there for the rest of the day, and the next, and the next, and the next…


	12. Chapter 12

\-- Present --

You felt the grip on your hand slackening and hurriedly clenched your own, your heart thumping in your chest. You didn’t want Natalia to die. She couldn’t.

 

“Nat. Nat! Wake up! Stay with me!”

 

She gave a slight groan, making you sigh heavily with relief.

 

“You never shut up, do you,” she sighed jokingly, her voice cracking. You chuckled with her, lightly shaking your weak head ‘no’. You could feel her fading from you, and blurted something — anything — out to make her focus on you.

 

“Tell me about you and Nikolai.”

 

She was quiet for a moment, devastating you, before she spoke. “Then let me tell you about my childhood…”

 

She launched into stories about her long line of family, first telling you about her parents that killed themselves both. She glossed it over and moved on, despite your repeated apologies, and told you about her Ukrainian brother and sister. She told you with a bit of dry wisteria that they had run from Ivan long ago, and you could hear the jealously laced in her words. You gave her hand a tight squeeze as she took a deep breath. She continued on, this time about Ivan. Her tone became dark as she told you a horrifyingly detailed reencounter of how Ivan killed his older sister Anya when he was ten, and nobody found out. You asked her why she hadn’t gone to the police, but she only replied with “I was already in love”.

 

She then told you about herself. How she loved her older sister Yekaterina before she abandoned her, how she always cried at night. She told you bitterly about how she admired Ivan, even though he was crazy. You lay and listened to her every word, even the ones that were too weak to make it out. When she made it to Nikolai, she paused.

 

“No. I can’t tell you his story… He must tell you himself.”

 

You decided not to press on it and squeezed her hand, thanking her quietly. You felt so, so sorry for her — a girl let alone in the world with nothing to chase but a broken and empty heart. You felt almost unworthy to tell her about your own family and life — how utterly normal it was — but she begged you and hung onto every single word. You assumed she was inserting herself into your story, so that in her thoughts she lived a happy bartending life with the occasional crazy Friday. 

 

“Thank you,” she told you when you finished. She lay in silence for a moment; tricking you into thinking she had fallen asleep before she spoke again. “[Name], I pity you.”

 

“I pity all of humanity,” you replied dryly, but she continued on.

 

“You don’t choose who you love, but I’m sorry that you fell in love with a man who loves another.”

 

You wanted to retort back. Anything that would defend your feelings for him… but you had nothing. You were pathetic. 

 

Sensing your depressed emotions, she squeezed your hand weakly, wheezing out a few more words. “I respect you [Name]. You are brave. I wish you the most for your happiness… Thank you. For clearing my mind about Ivan.”

 

“Thank you, Natalia.”

 

And then the door opened again.

 

You squeaked, the sudden adrenaline enough to get you upright. You pulled Natalia’s body with you as you backed yourself up to the wall, your bare feet scraping against the ground roughly. You heard Natalia moan in pain as you jostled her around, but your fear overtook all sense.

 

“Ha, you’re like two little scared rats.”

 

Your heart almost stopped in relief. It wasn’t Ivan. 

 

_It wasn’t Ivan._

 

The voice came closer, revealing an ugly man with scars knotted over his dirty skin, his grin baring yellowed and rotted teeth. It wasn’t Ivan. Just some other guy who was dumb enough to open the door.

 

“Say why don’t you take that shirt off there and I’ll give you the stew? You’re a little bitch after all, yeah?”

 

You weakly brought your hand up to your chest, trying to find the button of your shirt. What could this guy do to you that wasn’t worse than Ivan’s hand? You whimpered with pain as the button pushed against your sensitive, scraped hands, opening dried wounds. You closed your eyes when he laughed in your face, vomit-worthy breath filtering through. 

 

“ _Good_ little bitch. I can see why Ivan wanted you know, ha ha — oof!”

 

No way.

 

This wasn’t a fairy tale.

 

There was no way.

 

You refused to believe it. Your heart couldn't take any more...

 

“Nikolai!”

 

You weakly cracked your eyes open to see just him — your super hero standing there in front of you, his blue-violet eyes murderous. He came. He came!

 

Nikolai came for you!

 

You almost laughed, stretching a hand towards him. He came. He cared for you.

 

He brushed past you, holding Natalia’s body. Your hand fell. 

 

“Natalia, oh my god. Are you alright? What did that fucking bastard do to you? I’ll kill him —“

 

You cut him off with a wistful laugh, scornful. You weren't even able to control it. You leaned back against the wall, giggling to yourself like some mad woman. You supposed you could be classified as mentally damaged after the whole ordeal — but Nikolai broke you. Ivan was the boot to your ice, and Nikolai was the hammer to your glass.

 

He broke you.

 

He eyed you curiously, as if just realizing you existed. 

 

“You shouldn’t have gotten caught like that. What are you, ten years old? Going off to the man holding candy?”

 

“Nikolai, are you stupid?” Natalia was wheezing harder than before now, struggling to take breaths. Nikolai turned back to her immediately, whipping off his jacket and tucking it around her. 

 

“Natalia, don’t talk,” you said quietly to her, despite her hard gaze. You shook your head, forcing yourself to stand. You almost fell down again but caught yourself against the wall. You heard your bones grinding. You were still grinning to yourself, delirious to hell and back.

 

“Where are you going?” she asked panicky, showing much more concern than Nikolai. He sat there, cradling the unmoving Natalia, merely watching. 

 

“I gave you so many goddamn chances,” you hissed, poison dripping from your words. You saw Nikolai wince and you felt bitterly triumphant, continuing. “How did I fall in love with a person like _you_? Hell, you’re just like Ivan. You’re just a little boy, so fucking insecure, so unwilling for _any_ fucking help. Well guess what Nikolai? Guess what?” your voice was high with emotion, but you didn’t care how loud you were. You were done. 

 

“You’ll attract—“ he started, putting a hand up, but you ignored him. You laughed again, putting your head in your hands. You nearly slumped down the wall, but caught yourself with pure will. 

 

“I gave you help! I gave all of me to you! But did you care? Nope. Didn’t give a single shit. Well Nikolai, I don’t give anymore shits for you either. If I die, I hope you remember that I fucking _hate_ you.”

 

“[Name],” Natalia warned as you started to walk towards the door, stumbling over your own feet. You kept going, ignoring her. 

 

“Take care,” you said bitterly, turning back once you were at the doorway. You nodded at Natalia and didn’t even look at Nikolai, before slipping to your freedom.

 

And sure, you noticed Ivan walking behind you. You noticed the switchblade gleaming in his hand. You felt the fury crackling in his eyes. But you stumbled along the wall anyways, knowing that you had left your will to live back in that prison cell with Nikolai.

 

Ivan grabbed you, and you merely smiled at him. Even as his eyes widened with your refusal to be his slave — you weakly lolled in his harsh grasp at an attempt of a wave.

 

"Hi."

 

Whether that statement was to the grim reaper standing behind you with his hands on your shoulder, or the demon grasping at you with his dirty and sharp little claws...

 

...you didn't even know.


	13. Chapter 13

You felt Ivan holding a blade to your throat, his hand shaking so badly that it occasionally slit your skin like a paper would. “You little fucking bitch…” he whispered to you. His voice wavered uncertainly, but nothing had ever sounding so menacing.

 

“You need better insults!” you giggled to yourself, the high of adrenaline and the heartbreak ultimately confusing you. “I’m a bitch, I’m a bitch…”

 

Ivan slapped you across the face. You gave a slight gasp of pain, the pinpricks of warmth spreading across your cheek. Ivan was silent — probably to smugly feed off of your pain — but you merely grinned. It felt so _great_ to get back at Ivan for all he had done to you and Natalia. After all, what is a power-hungry beast without power?

 

“Why the fuck are you smiling?! I’ll kill you!” his harsh whispers flung spittle into your face. “I’ll kill you! I’ll make you cry and scream so badly —“

 

You took his hand holding the knife and slit it across the back of your hand. You didn’t even flinch as blood immediately erupted from the wound, slipping down your fingers and staining them. Ivan stared at you with wide eyes as you licked a droplet of scarlet before it fell, sighing with content.

 

“My time has come, Ivan. You might as well hurry up.”

 

You felt the rage boil up inside of him like water over a pot. His eyes flared and he lunged for you, waving his knife like an irresponsible child. You blinked as it sliced across your cheek. It stung along with your hand, but you welcomed the pain. “Oh, you poor child,” you cooed to him as he heaved for breath. You took his face in your hands and took the back of the injured one, allowing your crimson blood to drip into his shiny silver locks. “So hurt inside.”

 

He took your hand and flipped it, cutting your wrist. You gasped in pain this time, knowing he had hit your veins without mercy. You stumbled back and clutched it to your stomach, the cloying scent already making your head spin. The warmth and stickiness bled through the remains of your shirt. It only made you feel more hazy and delirious. 

 

He took your damaged wrist and dragged you by it, pulling you across the floor in silence. You let him, your head lolling uncontrollably. What could you do? You couldn’t even hope for a clean and quick death. Let Ivan torture you. You were dead any ways. 

 

He threw you into a room, managing to lift you a few centimeters before slamming back onto the ground. You raised your head slowly, hearing the creak of your bones when you did. You vision wasn’t focusing properly but you could clearly see a table. You didn’t have to know what was on the tables above you. 

 

He took you by the neck and lifted you, gently placing you onto the sheet of metal like a bride. His hair was dripping with your blood, pitter-pattering onto your eyelids like rain as he stared down from you. He was like God, watching the world with the reflection of fire in his eyes as he watched his Earth burn. 

 

“What do you want to do with me?” you asked pleasantly through your heavy tongue. You sounded more like a seductive wife rather than a person literally lying on her deathbed. _Actually, it’s a deathtable!_ you giggled to yourself. You mirth filled chuckles enraged Ivan more. He slammed his knife into the table, catching the skin of your forearm with it. You howled, writhing away from the blade. It only pierced through your flesh more. Your screams made him smile, the grin stretching to his ears and showing you his pearly white canines. 

 

“Finally,” he muttered to himself, leaning back and closing his eyes like he was drinking in your pain. “Ah, a scream is a poem without words. Wouldn’t you agree with me?”

 

You cut your choking off with your tongue, breathing rapidly through your nose. You clenched your entire bod, staring into the light above you to avoid thinking about the switch-knife still impaled in your arm. 

 

With a happy sigh, he took another knife that clicked against the tabletop. He showed it to you like he was showcasing it to a judge, letting the blade reflect the bright white light. It was long and malicious, a delicate porcelain blade used only for cooking. 

 

“Using this in your guts will cause it to shatter with enough force. It will kill you more slowly and painfully than if I stabbed you seventy-six times. Think of it as… one hundred little baby knives slicing into your stomach from the mommy knife.”

 

“F-F-Fun.” your witty retorts were now cracking whispers, your body shaking on the table. You heard your bony elbows rattling against the steel. He took pleasure at your weakness and ran the blade against your bloody cheek, showing you the once-white blade stained with red. He turned his face into a mock frown. 

 

“Your blood is so, so ugly. I must drain you of it all.”

 

You waited for him to pierce your abdomen like he had told you he would, but instead he brought it to your face again. You couldn’t help but flinch, expecting the burn of the blade in your cheek. Instead, there was only a slow grinding noise. You opened your eyes to find him delicately shearing your hair away, holding the lock of matted hair in his grip like a trophy.

 

“You must have been so pretty. Before I, you know, captured and tortured you.”

 

He took your jaw with one hand and forced it open. He pressed your tongue down, making you gag, before stuffing the locks of hair into your mouth. It scratched against your palate and caused you to vomit — but you had nothing to give. Tears swam in your eyes as you squirmed as best as you could without causing more pain to yourself, struggling not to breath in your own hair. He cut the other side of your hair as you struggled, and stuffed that down your throat too. He chortled like a child as he watched you accidentally swallow a chunk before gagging, tears streaming down the side of your face fluidly. 

 

“Swallow, dear. Swallow the length of your disgusting past. I will make you reborn. I will set you free.”

 

You were pushing as hard as you could to get all the hair out of your mouth, but he only pushed it back in. He even went so far as to prod his gloved finger down your throat and pushing brittle strands down himself. You were gagging and sobbing and oh my god you didn’t know there could be this much pain why was he doing this to you why couldn’t you just have killed yourself why did he hate you so much he forced your mouth open again with another handful of your own hair you hated this you hated him why did he hate you why did you have to go through this please top please please please no he’s making you eat more why can’t you be done you just threw up but all you give is wet bile and it makes the hair taste worse he’s holding you up with a hand and pushing hair into your mouth like he’s stuffing a scarecrow why is he laughing like that you hurt so much why this is so humiliating you’re sobbing crying but you can’t scream there’s too much hair caught in your throat you can’t breathe you can’t 

 

“Stop! STOP! FUCKING _GET AWAY FROM HER!_ ”

 

Ivan lets go of you and allows your head to fall onto the table. You ignore the knife still impaled in your arm and allow it to scrape into your bone as you turn to your side, coughing hair up out of your lungs and throat as spit dribbles down with it. You know it’s Nikolai but can’t think enough to realize it’s him. You can see out of the corner of your eye that he’s holding a gun to Ivan’s temple, his body shaking in fury. Your broken mind could only comprehend that he was your angel. An angel come to save you. 

 

Ivan knocked the weapon out of Nikolai’s hand in the moment he hesitated and hadn’t shot him. You almost wanted to cry out. But you couldn’t. You only watched in horror as Nikolai sustained a flurry of blows from his older brother, Ivan’s harsh fist colliding with Nikolai’s skull with sickening _thumps_. Nikolai struggled to get to the gun that lay on the floor. You could only stare at it like you could move it with willpower as your arm dangled off the side of the table limply. Please. 

 

_”He is the person that scares me the most.”_

_“What?” you were taken aback by the sudden statement as Nikolai sat, his hands clasped together. He looked into his lap like he was a child accused of stealing, his eyes darting around every now and then._

_“Ivan. He is the one thing I am afraid of.”_

_“Oh?” you were drunk as hell, and he knew it. It was the one reason he was telling you this at all — because he knew you would forget everything immediately. As if on cue, you took another shot of your mysterious cocktail and slammed it onto the table, giggling in a lower pitch than usual. “Go on Nikky.”_

_“He abused me. Hurt me. H…” his voice stopped momentarily and he took your lead, taking a swig from his pure vodka. “Touched me. He killed Anya, the sister that actually made me feel special… He drove away my sister and brother, he twisted Natasha’s mind…”_

_“Ew. Sounds like a big meanie.”_

_Nikolai normally would have scolded or lashed out at you for such a childish remark to something as serious, but her could only sigh and turn away. “Yeah. I suppose he is.”_

 

“Nik…O…La… La… Lai.”

 

The sound of his voice through your numb mouth seemed to give him newfound energy. You saw him kick Ivan before pushing him away, diving for his gun. You almost cheered. What an action movie!

 

Nikolai ran to Ivan and stepped on his hand before he could push himself up. The crunch of bones could be heard, but Ivan didn’t even blink. 

 

“Oh little brother. You’ve finally beat me.”

 

Nikolai’s breathing was harsh, and you could see blood running from his nose and dripping from his bloodstained teeth. The gun clicked in his hands like it was begging to be shot.

 

“Kill me. Or do you have no balls to do even that?”

 

Ivan was edging him on, and you knew it. You had to stop him. Your mind wasn’t working so your mouth took it on its own hands, blurting out the first thing that came to mind, “Nikky!”

 

Nikolai paused, and you saw his finger twitch on the trigger. Your heart was pounding in your ears, threatening to force your own eyeballs out of your skull. Tears started to slip out of your eyes again as you tried to speak through hiccups. “Don’t. Don’t. Don’t shoot.”

 

“Why?” Nikolai demanded of you, staring at you like you were mad, His heel dug into Ivan’s hand, crushing it further into the ground, and the first light inhale of pain could be heard. It only encouraged him to grind it into the floor further, but Ivan gave no other noises of weakness.

 

“Do you remember?”

 

“Remember what?” his eyes were drawn away from you back to Ivan, his eyes wide with hate. he wanted to kill Ivan so badly. So badly. Yet you were stopping him. You only had to stop him for a little longer, you told yourself when black flickered across your vision like flies. 

 

Just a little longer.

 

“When I asked you if you killed anybody,” you gasped, pulling your arm back up off the side of the table. It fell with a _bang_ , making Nikolai jump. You kept speaking in between grunts of exertion, pulling the limp hand towards the blade still impaled in your gushing forearm.

 

“I… do?” Nikolai said, probably only to make you feel better. You ignored that and focused on the blade. Just a little further. 

 

“I don’t… know if… you have… but I won’t let you kill anybody because of me…” Your hands clasped around the knife blade. Just a little more.

 

“Are you fucking crazy?! This is Ivan! He was just torturing you! He tortured me! Natasha! Anya! All of them! All of us!”

 

“I won’t… let you… kill… anybody because of… m…e.”

 

You heard Ivan laugh, his chuckles throaty. “Oh, little brother! Your girlfriend is so innocent and pure! I _almost_ feel kinda bad.”

 

You pulled a little, tugging the black handle a millimeter out of your flesh. Just a little higher. 

 

“Go on, Nikolai. You don’t have to kill me. She won’t let you kill anybody _else_ on her case.”

 

You ignored his heavy emphasis on the word ‘else’ despite Nikolai’s obvious shudder. The blade rose, and you saw a gleam of silver rise from the ocean of red. Yes. Just a little longer.

 

You heard Nikolai’s gun cock, but your words were taking some effect. His hand lowered slightly, even if by just a centimeter. Ivan laughed again, ignoring Nikolai’s booth heel digging into his knuckles. 

 

“Don’t you love her, Nikky?”

 

You had drawn the knife out of your arm. It was big and heavy in your hand. Just a little more.

 

“I…” Nikolai was at a loss for words. Ivan was reaching for something behind him, taking advantage of Nikolai’s distress. It would be a knife. Something. _He was going to hurt Nikolai._

 

“ _I_ love him!” you shouted to Ivan, before hurling it at his head.

 

Surprisingly, it went through with a clean noise that was satisfying — like cutting through a carrot. Ivan was punned to the wall, his mouths still parted in a laugh with his eyes crossed onto the blade that sliced into his forehead. He never even got to die suffering. The gun in his hand clattered to the ground, along with Nikolai’s.

 

You wouldn’t let him kill anybody. You’d do it for him.

 

Nikolai seemed to remember you were dying on the table and ran to you, nearly falling over an upturned beaker in his hurry. He flipped you so that you lay on the table properly and propped your head up, his violet eyes searching your face and all the lacerations of your skin. You smiled weakly. He was still beautiful even at this time. Hell, you were almost resentful.

 

“Natalia…?”

 

“She’s fine. You’re not. Come on, I called the police, they’ll be coming soon —“

 

“Nikolai, I won’t make it.” your words weren’t stuttered any longer and seemed to flow smoothly now. He closed his mouth, his lips a tight line. 

 

“Of course you will. You’re always so fucking stubborn.”

 

You laughed, immediately regretting it when a surge of blood came to your mouth. Nikolai turned your head and let you spit it out onto the floor, coughing. The rusty taste was sharp, but you pushed yourself past it. 

 

“You stupid girl, why did you ever do this…? I don’t get you, why the fuck do you…”

 

Nikolai was rambling, clutching at your skin like it would anchor you to the world. You let yourself respect his desire to actually hold you for once, closing your eyes. 

 

“What’s my name?” you asked almost dreamily. He made a questioning noise, though it was short and panicky. He knew you were fading. Just like you did.

 

“Why? Why?!”

 

“Say it for me, just once. Please…”

 

He said it to you. He said it loudly and clearly, over and over like a chant. He spoke it again and again, until it shrunk to wrangled whispers, and then into choked sobs…

 

Just a little more.


	14. Chapter 14

Beep. Beep. Beep.

 

 _Oh, just shut the fuck up,_ you thought irritably. 

 

You opened your eyes, swallowing dryly. A white ceiling welcomed you, so you turned your head to find a hospital monitor with tubes attached to your arm. You ignored them and turned the other way, nearly jumping out of your skin when you saw a face leaning precariously close to yours.

 

You breathed a long sigh of relief when you realized it was just Nikolai, his head propped on a hand as he leaned forwards towards you. He was asleep; his face was so peaceful you didn’t even recognize it was him. 

 

You didn’t want to wake him, so you tried to sit yourself up as quietly as possible. Somehow his refined hearing caught wind of your tiny ruffling of the sheets and he jolted awake as if slapped.

 

He called your name loudly like you were a ghost, his eyes wide with disbelief. You smiled wryly of he much he had refused of knowing it, only to hear him say it so openly now. “Are you okay?! Hey, are you listening?! Nurse —“

 

“I’m okay, I think…” you raised both arms to study them. Bandages were wrapped around them, and you dropped them back onto the sheets. Nikolai grabbed onto one, clutching it in his like a lifeline. It was a pleasant surprise, and you felt heat crawling up to your cheeks. “How’s Natalia?”

 

His face fell, and you wondered if you said anything wrong. He looked down before speaking, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

 

“For what? Is she alright?!” his silence was scaring you, but he nodded his head. 

 

“She’s fine, she’s fine… but I’m sorry for you.”

 

“Why?” you raised an eyebrow, your gaze flicking down to your intertwined hands. You had to look away, a wave of giddy embarrassment taking over your thoughts.

“I ignored you for so long. You were the one who made me happy, and I… I was so stupid…”

 

You tightened your fingers around his. You gently whispered his name so that he’d look up. “Hey. Without your obsessive love over her, you wouldn’t have met in the first place.”

 

He gave a short chuckle and a smile, catching you off guard. He never smiled — or laughed! He was darned cute too… he caught you staring and looked away. 

 

“What?” he asked, biting his bottom lip. Oh my god, he was blushing. You found yourself grinning widely, having to cover it with your other hand when he turned back to you. “Oh, don’t make fun at me now,” he snapped at you, his usual scowl returning. You couldn’t help it anymore. You burst into giggles.

 

You ignored his demands of why you were laughing so hard and only quieted when he waited for you to. His face was serious again, his gaze turned downwards in shame. 

 

“You said you loved me, back there, when you… you know…”

 

You nodded, squeezing his hand so that he wouldn’t have to go any further. You didn’t regret what you had done, nor did you feel any shame or negative feelings. You had killed a man. But Ivan wasn’t a man to you at all — and therefore, you would not mourn him.

 

Nikolai took a deep breath, steeling his nerve. “I think I love you too.”

 

Your heart skipped a beat, the annoying beep behind you showing it more obviously than you would have liked. You pushed away your awkward ‘Ums’ and ‘Uh’, trying to configure a thing to say.

 

“’I think’ isn’t very confident,” you told him weakly. Oh, good going. 

 

You weren’t too sure what happened next. You could see him mouth the words ‘Very well’ but before you knew it, he had placed his lips upon yours. It was clear he hadn’t had much experience but you guided him, closing your eyes and letting him chafe his chapped lips against yours. Oh you had never thought you would see this day. But here it was! You were kissing the man you loved. 

 

And it was sweet.

 

He pulled away, sitting back down into his chair slowly like he was still trying to comprehend what he had done. His mouth was slightly agape and his eyes were narrowed, flickering from side to side like he was still watching his past self do what he had done. You giggled to yourself. He was too cute. You voiced the thought aloud and he was blushing again, face aflame like an apple. 

 

You laughed again until your sides hurt, before a dizzy spell fell over you. Nikolai pulled the covers to your neck as you lay back down, your eyelids falling shut despite your efforts to keep them open. You wanted to say something else to Nikolai, but your lips were glued shut.

 

He whispered your name to you, before pressing his lips to your forehead. “The stupid woman I fell in love with,” he breathed. 

 

The stupid man I fell in love with, you thought right back to him.

\--END--


	15. Epilogue

\--6 years Later--

You watch as Nikolai plays with Anya and the oldest sister, before Nick cries out for attention in his toddler like ways. You smile as your faithful husband does, picking up the youngest boy and lifting him into the air, flying him around and making stupid spluttering airplane noises. The girls cheer and clap, giggling and squealing with mirth. 

 

Seeing him comfortable around his children made you relieved. He had been so afraid — cautious of every detail and obsessing over it until he passed out from exertion. Especially the nervousness he went through while being in the first stages of your shared relationship! Oh, and you wouldn’t even think about the first night in bed. It still made you cringe to this day. 

 

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered his panic during your contractions, nearly knocking the doctor out in his fear. When you had finally pushed her into the new world, Nikolai had insisted you name her after yourself or he would legally change it himself. You had forced the same words upon him during Nick’s birth, and you hadn’t forgotten of how proud he had been when he thought you weren’t looking. 

 

“What are you laughing at?”

 

Natalia sits beside you, sipping at her tea and turning a page of the worn book in her lap. You smile at her, shrugging. She was better now, much better. When she had learned of what happened to Ivan she merely threw her head back and laughed in relief. She had found a nice man, a man with shaggy brown hair and kind green eyes. You teased them and giggled at their red faces, but she teased you right back when Nikolai was around. 

 

“Oh, have you heard…?”

 

You laugh with her as she tells you new gossip, having to hold your lips to prevent an unwanted spew of tea onto your porch. You turned the ring on your finger absentmindedly. It was a simple band of gold with a diamond embedded on the top, just like every other on every show in the world. The beauty was really underneath, where an engraving of your initials and his lay pressed against your skin gently.

 

Nikolai noticed you watching and called for you, beckoning for you to join the play. Your children all chanted ‘Mommy! Mommy!” and waved their hands wildly, toothy and toothless grins slapped across their faces. 

 

“Go,” Natalia said, smiling knowingly. She pushed your arm gently and turned her head towards him when you hesitated. You stood, running towards Nick and sweeping him off his feet while making monster noises. His loud shrieks and high-pitched giggles filled the air as your family crowded around you, each demanding your immediate attention. 

 

Nikolai kissed your cheek before taking a hold of Anya and [Name] Junior’s thin bodies, lifting them both onto his hips. They pulled at your locks of long hair as you leaned forwards to hug them all, and all you could do was stare lovingly at the man you gave your heart to.

 

You remembered being the Nameless, Stupid Girl. Maybe you were still a stupid girl, but nameless to him you weren’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Elsewhere: http://deltachye.tumblr.com/post/145541901806/just-a-nameless-stupid-girl-ma-torture


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